A Golden Encounter
by Xarciel
Summary: The man reminds him of Kotetsu, Barnaby decides, as he watches the blond stranger pour himself another glass of wine. The man grins at him, an undercurrent of something other than friendship behind his eyes. Similar, but different, Barnaby muses, and as he reaches for the wine bottle, he thinks that it might be the differences are what interest him so. Crackfic. SanjixBarnaby.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** A Golden Encounter  
**Author:** Xarciel  
**Chapter:** One  
**Rating:** K (this chapter only)  
**Word Count:** 760  
**Pairing:** Sanji/Barnaby  
**Warnings**: None  
**Author's Notes:** A crack-fic inspired by Rae-Wolf-Demon, because the concept was too good to ignore. The setting is just all of the One Piece characters slotted into the T&B world, though more specific details will be explained further in the fic.

* * *

"Oh no, I assure you it's nothing like that," Barnaby laughs, a glass of chardonnay in one hand. It's eleven o'clock, and the function had started at seven, but even so Barnaby doubts it will wrap up any time soon. The last four hours of his time have been spent schmoozing with company executives and media moguls, pulling out all the stops to make sure that Barnaby Brooks Jr's way to the top of the Hero Board is clear. In the Hero business media representation is nearly as important as the challenges themselves, and he knows that he's already creating a sensation amongst the viewers.

The business man of the moment tuts appropriately in response to Barnaby's comment, and raises one hand to stroke his rather curly moustache. Sensing another long-winded story in the works Barnaby extricates himself from the conversation with the skill of an old pro, taking the chance to shake the gentleman's hand before he makes his escape, draining the last of his wine from the glass.

Barnaby sighs. It had been a long day. That fool Kotetsu is still not taking their business seriously, and he's starting to seriously wonder if the older man ever will. It's only when he made it over to the bar to dispose of his now empty glass of wine that he realises that he can feel a headache coming on. On top of everything else the vintages of wine they're serving tonight are subpar at best, so his original plan to get him through the night by enjoying fine wine was ruined before it even began. Heading home is a tempting idea. He sits down heavily in one of the bar stools, contemplating whether it would be too early to call it a night when he hears a familiar voice from behind him.

"Excuse me sir," the man says, voice deep and steady in the way it only is when he's feeling serious. He hadn't seen Kotetsu all night- truthfully he wasn't even aware that the older man had been invited to this function, but it's this twist of fate that makes him decide that for once leaving a party early won't kill his reputation. He braces himself for the man's childish nature and turned of the barstool to face him, expression impassive.

Except, that isn't Kotetsu. In his place is a tall slim man in a well-tailored suit, the gold buttons and red silk shirt an elegant contrast against the charcoal black of the jacket and pants. There's no tie, instead the shirt is open just enough to see the man's jutting collarbones and the top of his pecs, revealing that despite the slim build he's not as skinny as he looks.

"Do you mind if I join you?" The man asks, and Barnaby looks away from him and shakes his head, gesturing to the empty seat beside him.

"Not at all," he replies, turning his attention to the man's face. There's a cerulean blue eye admiring him, it's partner hidden under the golden fringe the man has pulled down over his face. He has a strong jaw, a well-trimmed goatee that can't stop him from comparing this stranger to Kotetsu again, and most noticeable of all, a curled eyebrow, resting in the centre of his forehead.

The man's eyes are wandering over him, and Barnaby realises with a start that they've been checking each other out. How base, this is a high-class gathering, not some city-side tavern.

"You look like a man who enjoys a fine wine," the stranger comments, resting one arm against the bar as his body faces Barnaby. "I've found the circulating selection tonight rather lacking, but they only offer wine by the bottle here, and it is rather uncouth to drink alone. Can I interest you in joining me for a bottle of Rosé?" The man grins at him, and Barnaby nods, adding a quiet 'it would be my pleasure'. The man waves a barman over, requesting his vintage, and then it's just the two of them, the tinkling of glasses and murmur of conversation from the crowd the only thing to fill the void.

"I'm Barnaby Brook Jr, pleased to meet you," Barnaby says finally, extending a hand.

"Sanji Blackleg," the stranger with Kotetsu's voice replies, and raises Barnaby's hand to his lips, kissing it in the way that he would for a lady. Barnaby blushes, and as he notices the mischievous glint in Blackleg's eye, he realises that tonight is looking up after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** A Golden Encounter  
**Author:** Xarciel  
**Chapter:** Two  
**Rating:** T (this chapter only)  
**Word Count:** 781  
**Pairing:** Sanji/Barnaby  
**Author's Notes:** Yes Robin has pretty much the same job in this world as AGA. What can I say, it's convenient for my purposes.

* * *

Sanji, as it turns out, has only been in Sternbild for a couple of weeks, and is in the restaurant business. He'd been invited along to the high-class affair as the companion of the director of the Sternbild Natural History Museum after her husband had been called away on business at the last minute. The two were old friends, and Madam Nico had felt that it would be the perfect opportunity for Sanji to make some new connections in the large city.

The oddest thing about the man, Barnaby thinks, is his complete lack of knowledge about Hero TV. Everybody in Sternbild knows about them, and their fame had spread quite far- the program was translated into five different languages, although English was of course the most common tongue these days to begin with. It was interesting for Barnaby to actually need to explain who he was. While he had done introduced himself to be polite, he had been sure that the other blond must have recognised him.

"My apologies, monsieur," Sanji said, his French accent slipping in the same way Agnes' was prone too when she was rushed at work, "but in my line of work I have very little free time, and tv in particular isn't something I partake in." He pours Barnaby another glass of wine, noticing that the bottle is nearly empty.

Sanji inspects the bottle idly. They've relocated themselves to a table on the small smoking balcony, and he's been taking the opportunity to smoke like a chimney ever since. That was nearly an hour ago, and he's learnt a huge amount about his new companion since. It was just his luck that he had stumbled into a minor celebrity amongst all of the stuffy businessmen a the function. The other man was attractive too, aloof and hair styled to perfection. Sanji liked a man with style, and if he wasn't mistaken, the other man had taken quite a liking to him as well. He hadn't planned any entertainment for tonight, but never let it be said that Sanji Blackleg's plans weren't _flexible_ when it served his purpose.

Barnaby sips at the strong wine, Sanji certainly has good taste. He shakes his head lightly.

"Don't worry about it," he replies. "There's no reason you should have known, although, would it have affected your decision to talk to me?" He's looking down at Sanji over the frames of his glasses, and he darts his tongue out to run it along his bottom lip. Sanji gets the hint and pulls his chair in closer, stamping out his latest cigarette and slipping his foot out of his shoe. The tablecloths are white and reach to an inch above the floor, very nicely bleached in a way that suggests the owner cleans them daily, and they are perfect for hiding his movements.

He slides his socked foot up the black fabric of the other man's pant leg, beginning at the ankle and continuing until he reaches the knee, watching Barnaby's face to check it's alright to continue. To the man's credit, he makes only the tiniest jolt when Sanji begins his exploration, before his poker face falls back into place.

"Perhaps," Sanji grins, foot rubbing circles on the man's inner thigh, moving minutely closer to its destination with each cycle. "If I had known, I probably would have assumed that you and the other minute-man already taken." His foot is dangerously close now, and Barnaby's voice catches when Sanji's foot gives his length the first bit of attention it's had all night.

"Minute-man is not the way I would have chosen to describe my power," he murmurs, shifting his chair closer to the table in an effort to create more friction. Sanji drains the last of his wine, pouring the dregs from the bottle so that he and Barnaby have little less than half a glass each. He shrugs.

"Perhaps, but I feel a demonstration would be more effective." He leans forward over the tables, elbows digging into the cloth as he places his head in both hands, weight dragging forward, pushing down on Barnaby's erection in a way that means he can't help but shudder and gasp, and he has to try and recall himself, remind himself that he's still in public. "Prove it to me," Sanji whispers, and there is lust in his eye that Barnaby is sure is mirrored in his own.

"With pleasure," he breathes, and strokes at the ankle kneading his sensitive flesh. "Shall we make our departure?" The feral grin on Sanji's face is enough to tell him that he needn't ask twice.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** A Golden Encounter  
**Author:** Xarciel  
**Chapter:** Three  
**Rating:** M  
**Word Count:** 2984  
**Pairing:** Sanji/Barnaby  
**Author's Notes:** So here's the bulk of the story. Warning for sexual activities contained within.

* * *

As it happens, they never did make it back to Barnaby's that night. Just as the two were planning to make their escape Madam Nico had returned to fetch Sanji, bringing along a very influential real estate merchant. The two had drawn up extra seats at their small table, and discussion had gone long into the night until eventually Barnaby had been forced to make his excuses as he was doing an interview early the next morning, though not before Sanji had slipped him his mobile number and a very significant glance.

It had taken Barnaby three days before he'd finally caved in and rung Sanji. During that time he'd debated the pros and cons of whatever their acquaintance had the potential of becoming, but in the end he'd decided to take the chance. The fact that Kotetsu had made a fool of himself that day and left him longing for some more refined company had nothing to do with it.

Which is how he'd ended up in the small but comfortable kitchenette of Sanji's apartment in the lower Silver Stage, swapping tales of their idiotic coworkers. It was clear that there was one of Sanji's friends who annoyed him more than anything else.

"And then the idiot takes off full-pelt in the opposite direction, so of course _I_ have to abandon pursuit of the shitty purse-snatcher to make sure that he doesn't end up in a completely different city by later that afternoon." He shakes his head and checks the noodles. They're having some kind of seafood pasta, homemade, at Sanji's insistence that they eat in, rather than go out for dinner.

Barnaby just snorts, caught somewhere between a groan and a laugh before launching into his own story about Kotetsu's naïve notion of justice. Sanji just nods along, muttering something about a kid with a straw-hat before he goes to drain the spaghetti.

"I still haven't had a chance to check out this 'Hero TV' of yours," he says apologetically, pulling out two pasta plates and emptying the noodles into them using tongs. "It's been a busy few days- that guy Robin-chan set me up with the other night is proving to be a big help in finding a place." Barnaby's ears prick up at the wording but brush it off as poor wording choice as he admires the way Sanji effortlessly spreads the thick, nearly golden sauce onto the pasta. The smell of rich napolitana sauce, cream, the barest hint of pepper, and prawns reach his nose, and he recollects himself, accepting the plate that is passed to him across the counter.

Sanji fills the saucepans with water in the sink before pulls a stool up to his side of the kitchenette so that he's sitting opposite Barnaby.

"It's good to hear that you're finding your feet here." Barnaby comments, cutting the pasta into more manageable pieces with his fork and spoon, "And, if you're interested, I happen to know they're replaying some of this week's highlights later tonight." Sanji grins.

"Sounds great. Maybe I'll finally get to see this partner of yours." Barnaby laughs and shakes his head, trying to remember if Kotetsu had done anything particularly embarrassing this week.

"His heart is in the right place," he says slowly, mixing the pasta into his sauce, "but his execution is sloppy. Very sloppy. He's probably best known for his damage to public property." He finally tastes the dish, and the flavours explode on his tongue. The rich taste of tomato and basil, subdued by the thick cream is just the perfect compliment to the array of seafood on display, and the hint of heat is just enough to give the dish an extra bite without being unpleasant. The sauce is neither too heavy nor too light, and the flavour sits on the tongue for a few moments after swallowing. Sanji clearly wasn't lying when he said he was a good chef.

He looks up to find Sanji watching him, head rested on a fist from where his elbow leans against the counter. He feels like he's being examined under that gaze, as though Sanji can see beyond the polite demeanour he extends to everyone, see into the parts of him that only Samantha and Mr Maverick are privy too.

"It's delicious," he says honestly, and Sanji's face breaks into a smile.

"I know," he says cockily, cutting up his own pasta. "Though it's always nice to see someone try my cooking for the first time." He takes a bite of his own dish.

"Are you planning to open a restaurant in the Gold Stage?" Barnaby asks, taking another bite, flavours once again dancing across his tongue. There was no doubt that people would pay exuberant amounts for dishes like these, and Barnaby can't even imagine what other culinary feats Sanji must be capable of.

Sanji shakes his head.

"I'm planning to open up in the Bronze Stage actually." Barnaby raises his eyebrows. The Bronze Stage? There's no way Sanji will get the clientele he deserves anywhere in that sector. "I know I could open up where ever I wanted," he continues, "hell, I had that real estate guy over the other night so he could taste my cooking and he offered me my pick of his properties at a discount if I'd give him and his wife a few free meals a year- but those aren't really the kinds of people that need to be fed."

"What do you mean?" There's a pause, and Sanji puts down his cutlery, thinking about how to phrase his answer.

"People with money," he says slowly, looking into the middle distance, somewhere near the door, "they'll go where-ever they need to to get what they want. Even if I set up in the slums if my cooking is good enough, those kinds of people will come. But it's other people who really need restaurants, who need somewhere to eat. Nobody deserves to go hungry," he says firmly, shifting his gaze to Barnaby, a determined glint in his eye.

Once again he is reminded of Kotetsu in Sanji's actions. Only now he is not only speaking in Kotetsu's voice, but with his passion too, that same naïve but determined tone when he's about to launch himself into something stupid because the rational path just doesn't satisfy the humanitarian in him. And Barnaby can't help but smile, because while when Kotetsu gets in these moods it means they're going to blow a challenge or the fool's about to put himself in danger, on Sanji he sees it differently. Perhaps it's just the circumstances- he can't imagine the accountant for this restaurant Sanji desires will be very happy with his altruism, but there's the hint of experience behind Sanji's words that remind him of himself, and if he can turn his misfortune into a reason to become a Hero, it's no wonder that Sanji can turn whatever he's been through into something positive as well.

"Your show should be on soon right?" Sanji says abruptly, conspicuously changing the subject. Barnaby coughs into his hand a little, clearing his throat, and nods.

The two finish their meals in comfortable silence, and have just enough time to wash and dry the dishes before the opening credits for the show come on. Barnaby opens the bottle of Semillon he had brought, and the two sit back on Sanji's small two-seater to watch the show.

Barnaby knows that he's seen all this week's footage already, but most of it escapes his memory- after a while all of the petty crimes tend to blend together. On the screen Antonio is lifting a truck while Pao-Lin pulls the criminal out from the steering wheel, letting him fall the eight feet to the ground. He sneaks a glance at Sanji who seems entertained but not impressed by the performance. There's a calculating component to his gaze, as though he's evaluating the Heroes' skills, comparing them to something he's seen before. Barnaby makes a mental note to ask him about that later.

Finally Kotetsu comes into the shot, standing tall with hands on his hips as he stares down at the criminal stumbling to his feet. The thug's eyes go wide and he charges at Kotetsu in what should have been an easy point score for the Tiger, but instead the criminal takes a dive and escapes between Kotetsu's legs, leaving him confused and embarrassed as he turns to chase after the thug.

Sanji snorts.

"That's your partner? The 'Wild Tiger'?" Barnaby nods, sipping at the sweet wine.

"Unfortunately," he deadpans, as he watches Kotetsu stumble over a rubbish bin that the kid had thrown at him to get him out of the way. Sanji laughs and shakes his head.

"There must be some kind of rule about dumbasses being green." Barnaby means to ask him to clarify his statement,but then he's on the screen. In an unexpected move (for the audience anyway), he steps out from the alley the thug is running past and grabs him by the scruff of his shirt, holding his as high off the ground as he can. The kid struggles and tries to kick him, but he blocks the blow with his free hand and throws him to the ground, planting an armoured foot securely in the middle of his chest. The announcer goes wild, announcing the point score before the screen zooms in on his face. He knocks back the face plate, turning to face the camera and smiles, drawing his hand up in a small salute.

Sanji laughs and claps, turning to face him on the small couch, legs pulled up underneath him. The credits roll, and Sanji flicks the tv off.

"My hero," he teases, and Barnaby puts down his wine glass, leaning to face Sanji so that his hands are sinking into the couch on either side of the man's waist. Sanji has that glint in his eye again, mischief and lust combined, and Barnaby decides it's time to make a move.

"What makes you think that I'm _your_ hero?" he whispers, leaning forward as Sanji throws an arm around him, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. Sanji's eyes are half-lidded as Barnaby moves closer, pushing Sanji back so that the man is lying on his back on the couch, legs spread either side of the older man's. Barnaby hovers over him on hands and knees.

"Just a hunch," he murmurs, before he uses the hold on Barnaby's neck to pull him down. They trade kisses, innocent at first, until it becomes a fight for dominance. The cook's hands are on his ass and his own are sliding up Sanji's shirt, crumpling it as he fights against the tight button-up, too desperate for contact to bother undoing it.

Sanji moans against his lips and he takes the opportunity to move one of his hands lower, passing over the hard planes of the younger man's stomach to fondle him through his pants. Sanji groans as he applies pressure, kneading the sensitive flesh so that it begins to harden, pushing against his hand. The younger man wriggles, trying to push further into the pressure of Barnaby's hand, and Barnaby trails light kisses down Sanji's neck until he is once again stopped by the infernal shirt.

Barnaby growls and sits back on his heels, quickly pulling off his jacket and setting it next to the lounge before he throws off his shirt. He is just working on his belt when he feels two legs settle around his waist and he is flipped, only to find himself staring up at the lustful blond who just a moment had been admiring him strip.

"Please, allow me," Sanji breathes, leaning in again to steal kisses from Barnaby's mouth as clever fingers make quick work of the man's belt. The zipper is pulled open, pants and underwear shucked so they rest heavily around his knees and a hand slides down, playing lightly with the blond curls before it comes to it's main target. Sanji's finger trails teasingly down the top of the older man's arousal, then reaching underneath, caressing the thick vein on the underside of the man's sensitive organ before finally taking it in a firm grasp and stroking.

Barnaby's hands come up to Sanji's neck, tangling deeply in the blond hair as he is toyed with, groaning into the blond's mouth as the actions from further south reverberate through his body. Sanji bites at his lip, not enough to hurt, but it drives him crazy, and he sets to work again on the shirt.

There is no tie, for which he is grateful, but he is completely hard by the time he manages to slide the shirt down Sanji's arms, movements paused for a moment as the man frees himself of the cotton garment.

"Too many clothes," Barnaby mutters, and he realises that they're both still wearing their shoes. Some small part of his mind hopes that the don't leave any stains on Sanji's couch, but the voice is quickly forgotten when Sanji nods in agreement and stands up to free himself of his pants.

He is just fiddling with his own, the boots taking longer to take off than he would like when his mobile starts to vibrate, and he recognises the tone as the one he had set specifically for Hero missions. He pauses, and Sanji turns to the sound as well, pulling the vibrating phone out of the discarded jacket and handing it to him.

He looks at it, distressed. He has to go, of course, even though everyone else can probably handle it, because he still needs the points, but at the moment the Hero contest is one of the last things on his mind.

"Important?" Sanji asks, and he nods, indecisive.

Sanji makes up his mind for him, leaning in to kiss him at the same time he clicks the enter button, and suddenly Agnes' voice fills the room, informing him of the details of the latest bank robbery. There's an audible silence after Agnes hangs up, just Barnaby and Sanji, Barnaby sitting open-legged on the couch, displaying his flagging erection, Sanji leaning forward to press their foreheads together, hands on Barnaby's knees.

He can't think of anything to say at this point that doesn't sound either rude or desperate, so he's grateful when Sanji finally breaks the silence.

"Guess you'd better get going," he says dejectedly, palms making small circles on Barnaby's knees. Barnaby nods, swallowing thickly.

"I-" he begins, unsure how he's going to continue. I'll call you? I think we should do this again some time? What the hell can you say in a situation like this? Sanji interrupts him, reaching forward with a steady hand to stroke Barnaby's erection, bringing it back to life. Barnaby looks up at him confused.

Sanji grins.

"Not much shitty superhero business you can do with that in the way is there? Give me a couple of minutes." And then he sinks to his knees. Barnaby realises what he's going to do, and swallows heavily, inching forward as Sanji's hands guide him until finally the younger man looks up at him, lusty grin still in place, and takes him into his mouth.

Barnaby groans as wet warmth engulfs him, and Sanji sucks and -oh gods- the man definitely has some skill in this area. The tongue licks at his slit before the man takes more of him in into his mouth, one hand around the base of his shaft, pumping the extra length in time with the section bobbing in his mouth.

Barnaby's breath starts to come shorter, and he feels his balls tightening, the tension in his lower stomach accumulating as Sanji continues. His hands fist into the fabric of the lounge, doing his best to keep them out of Sanji's hair. The room is silent except for the sounds of Barnaby's pants and the occasional slurp from Sanji. Another strong suck and Barnaby nearly looses it until he looks down and sees Sanji looking at him, hair tousled, cheeks hollowed and eyes heavy with lust and he knows he's gone.

"S-Sanji," he breathes, holding off for as long as he can, hand pushing at Sanji's hair, "I-I'm gonna," but Sanji doesn't pull back like Barnaby expects him to, and instead as his seed spills into the younger man's mouth he drinks every drop, Adam's apple pulsing as he draws the last of the liquid from Barnaby's cock.

Sanji stands up, leaning forward to kiss Barnaby again, and he can taste himself on the cook's tongue, something he's not sure what to make of.

"Go," Sanji says, drawing back, his own erection still heavy between his thighs. Barnaby looks at it, disbelieving, there's no way he can leave him here like that. "Go," Sanji says again, this time looking more amused than horny. "You can pay me back later. For now your talents are needed elsewhere shitty Hero." His smile is genuine, and Barnaby still feels terrible, so he pulls him into a passionate kiss before he starts gathering his clothes.

"Sorry," he apologises, genuinely upset about the unfair exchange between them. Sanji is watching him from the couch, unbothered by his nudity, a cigarette between his lips, and waves his apology off.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you pay me back. Heroes have to be honourable don't they?" he teases, and Barnaby notices the roving glances Sanji gives him as he dresses.

"Definitely." Barnaby agrees, and reaches down to kiss him one more time- a promise- before he runs out of the apartment, hurrying off to meet up with the other Heroes.


End file.
